


Broken Bells

by jokersby



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anxiety, Batjokes, Holidays, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, Winter, holiday fic, lmao you guys never saw that did you, teaming up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:12:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jokersby/pseuds/jokersby
Summary: Dinner, a man with many names, and a cliché team up.





	Broken Bells

Silverware clinking and clanking and the soft rumbles of chatter around him was all that Bruce Wayne could hear other than the boring conversation in front of himself. The restaurant that the dinner party and himself was at was a fancier one, filled with round tables draped with white fine cloth, and the walls painted crème and adorned with gold and silver fixtures. He was sitting at one of the large round tables with a blonde headed woman, who was the daughter of the CEO of a company competing with Wayne enterprises, and other business partners. He wasn’t particularly interested in her, or the other business men, but she was obviously interested in Bruce, touching his arm and laughing at whatever half-assed joke he would make so that he would seem like he was paying attention and enjoying himself. His thoughts truly rested on the news that Alfred had given him less than an hour before, just as he arrived at the dinner party. Alfred sent him the news in the form of a text message only containing a picture of the television in the den of Wayne Manor. The screen said: “BREAKING: JOKER ESCAPES FROM ARKHAM ASYLUM AGAIN…IF SEEN, CALL AUTHORITIES IMMEDIATELY”. Bruce compulsively checked his phone, keeping the news station website pulled up in his web browser, refreshing it and waiting for further information from Alfred. When a man across the table pointed out this repetitive behavior, Bruce just gave him a smile and calmly said, “I’m just waiting for an important message from my associate.” The man laughed, joking that Bruce was always working.

The front doors of the restaurant could be opening, which would happen every half-hour or so, but the bustling sound throughout the restaurant slowly stopped until there was complete silence. Bruce looked up from his phone to see his dinner guests looking over to the doors. Bruce slowly turned his head, seeing who disturbed the atmosphere so suddenly. Leaning across the podium, talking to the obviously nervous man behind it, was the man that could turn any situation Bruce was in into a worst-case scenario. Bruce’s gaze rested upon the villain’s painted face for only a moment before the glint of green eyes looked his way. The Joker was looking at him and knew that Bruce Wayne was sitting there in the restaurant. A smile spread out on his cherry red lips, instantly ceasing his previous conversation with the waitor, and the Joker beelined straight to Bruce’s dinner table. Bruce pulled out his phone and began to nearly frantically text Alfred, but before he could hit send, the device was snatched out his hands, causing the girl beside himself to yelp.

“Oh , Brucie, Brucie, Brucie, not everyone needs to know I’m here, I’m not that important compared to you, Mr. Moneybags,” the green haired man beside him said, dropping the phone onto the table before quickly stabbing a steak knife into it, destroying Bruce’s only normal way to contact Alfred. Bruce let out a long sigh, keeping his eyes averted from the Joker, not giving him the attention he wants right away. The Joker then swept the destroyed phone off of the table, keeping the steak knife as he sat down in the seat next to Bruce, giving the blonde on his other side a glare before his attention turned back to Bruce. The villain then scooted his chair as close as possible to Bruce’s, entering into his precious personal space. Once he was settled, he pulled the knife he had used to destroy the phone with out of the phone and table and began to play with it, his eyes flicking momentarily from the knife to the woman at Bruce’s side.

“Bruce. Wayne. Bruce Wayne,” the Joker said with an edge in his voice, his arm slipping up and gently cupping the billionaire’s smoothly shaven cheek. Bruce looked at him, trying to put some fake fear into his eyes in order to keep his ruse. The Joker was obviously not buying it, seeing as he was being extremely gentle to his favorite bat’s alter ego. His hand slid down from Bruce’s cheek to grab onto the deep red tie he was wearing. The Joker assumed that it was probably super expensive since he could tell that it was well made, but he brought the steak knife dangerously close to Bruce’s neck, but instead of harming Bruce, he cut the tie off of him. A gasp came from the blonde woman nearby, causing the Joker to visibly tense up, the look of murder flashing in his eyes before he turned his head towards the rest of the dinner guests.

“Beat it, folks, Ol’ Brucie-Boy here-,” he begins to say, but the guests get up as fast as they could possibly manage, knocking over furniture and tripping over chairs, causing everyone else in the restaurant to follow suit. In seconds, the building was empty except for Bruce and the Joker. The Joker leaned over the table and grabbed the wine bottle that was left behind. He took a drink of it and turned his head to look at Bruce.

“Look, uh, Joker, I don’t know what you want with me,” Bruce begins to say, but the Joker’s hand is quick to stop his lips.

“Oh shush it, no need to keep up your act. I know who you are. I just needed your attention quick, and I know you won’t help me if I kill anyone or blow something up,” he said, pulling his hand away to take another drink of the expensive wine. Bruce lowered his voice before speaking.

“Why do you need my help, you just escaped Arkham, you’re doing fine. Hell, the cops are going to think you’ve just kidnapped Bruce Wayne.” Bruce clenched his jaw and looked towards the doors, seeing the flashing lights from the police cars parked outside. Joker groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

“Fine, go out and prove you weren’t kidnapped or something, just come find me in an hour. You always seem to know where I am.” The Joker stood up and began walking towards the back of the restaurant, bottle in hand as he exited through a door. Bruce watched him, hearing the cops push open the front doors, yelling and holding guns.

\--

Thick Kevlar and insulation protected Bruce from the cold air of the winter night as he used his grappling hook to launch himself from building to building, heading towards his destination. The Joker was right – he did know where he was. It wasn’t so much of a secret tracking device he hid in the Joker’s clothes, or injected into his skin, it was more of a gut instinct he had with the man. If the Joker wanted to be found, but wasn’t making a ruckus, Batman could find him, and if the Joker didn’t want to be found and was very underground about his activities, it would take a bit, but Batman would run into him.

Batman found him on the top of a derelict building that threatened to crumble any minute. The Joker was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself unintelligibly. He was genuinely disturbed by something that wasn’t his own personal demons. The vigilante landed silently on the building across from him, observing him from above. It didn’t take Joker but a moment to stop in his tracks and begin to look around. He could tell that he was nearby, and he was trying to find him. After sighing, Bruce jumped, using his cape to glide down towards his counterpart.

“There you are, and a few minutes early too,” the Joker said, his anxiousness leaving his face for a moment as a smile crossed his lips. The Joker strode towards him, closing the space between them as Bruce spoke.

“What do you need my help with.” The Joker stopped, his eyes darting away from him immediately at the mention of him needing his help. A sigh left his red lips and he ran his hand through his hair.

“I need your help getting rid of someone, a new crime lord who’s trying to move into Gotham and get his own little, entourage, together,” he said, his voice hinting with anger and malice. “No one knows his name, but I’ve heard so many, and they’re always stupidly common names,” he started pacing again, putting his hands into his pockets and fiddling with something inside of them. “This Jerry is stealing the guys who work for me. I’m losing contact of more and more men, and I’m afraid,” his voice softened a bit as he stopped walking and looked up at the sky, “that I’m going to have no one left.”

The entire time the Joker spoke, Bruce’s eyes stayed on him. He was always concerned for the man, and he was beginning to believe that the Joker thought his only companionship was with the people who listened to him and did things, which made sense when applied to his ex-henchman Harley Quinn. Before Bruce could speak, the Joker interrupted him, walking towards him while waving his hand a bit.

“Now I know you don’t want to help me get my goons and my power back, but I want to remind you that you’ll be taking down a guy that could become a problem later. All I’ve heard about this John is that he’s crazier than me. That’s pretty intense, even for me.” Batman sighed as he looked at Joker, making eye contact with him.

“Joker, I’ll help you, but you have to promise me one thing. You can’t kill anyone while working with me. We’re just going to take this guy to Blackgate, or if he is as crazy as you say, we’ll take him to Arkham.” The Joker instantly groaned and rubbed at his face, smearing his makeup slightly.

“Shit, I wanted to kill Mark.” He sighed and looked back at Batman, rethinking his proposition one more time before he gave. “Fine, I won’t kill anyone. I’ll try out the Batman Philosophy for a while.” The Joker then held out a gloved hand towards him. “Let’s shake on this, my dear bat.”

Bruce looked at his hand, checking for an electric buzzer before placing his hand into man in front of him’s hand. He shook it a bit, but the Joker held on for a moment too long, letting go a moment later.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos' and comments are greatly appreciated.


End file.
